Love

An act of love that fails is just as much a part of the divine as an act of love that succeeds, for love is measured by its own fullness, not by its reception~~Harold Loukes

Beautiful.

I have relentlessly been an individual who loves freely and quickly~the sting of such a characteristic gripping my heart with frequency.

So I have asked myself, at times, when I fall to my knees from unrequited love 'will I do it again?' and the answer is always, 'yes, yes and yes!'~much to my chagrin.

Because you see, I would rather practice the expansion of my heart over the course of this lifetime than the contraction or measure.  I would rather feel with passion and grace than stand hardened to the beauty that presents itself when the heart prepares to expand, embrace and bask in the presence of another.

I will surely be hurt again and I will surely continue to feel the shards of unrequited love from a time recently past but my heart loves on and on and on, the poor sap, and never ceases to swell from even the smallest act of beauty birthed by the divine.